Something Beautiful
by FiwiKruit
Summary: Pure, explicit wincest without any sort of plot. Purely indulgent on my behalf.


**Disclaimer; I own nothing but the writing**

**Warning; Explicit Wincest, no storyline here. Please don't read if it'll offend you.**

xxx

Sam's hands were gentle on Dean's skin, tracing soft patterns across his back and shoulders, spelling out words that formed half-memories in his mind. A lazy kiss on the base of his neck, the shifting of Sam's hips against his own – every touch, every movement sent trickles of arousal through his body, burning up his blood.

They'd passed _bad_ a long time ago. Back when he could convince himself that it was sexual frustration, just a way to relieve the pressure. Now- now there were feelings involved, and that was way worse. That was wicked.

And yet, somehow, it didn't matter. Not when Sam's long legs were tangled with his, erection grinding into his lower back, mouth hot and wet and open, just behind his ear. His little brother's hands slid around his body, running across his chest, following familiar lines and paths over the taut muscles.

And Sam's voice, breathing soft confessions into his ear, against his skin, his words setting Dean's brain on fire.

Dean choked out a muffled groan as Sam's hand dipped lower, ghosting over his stomach and then over his cock. His hips bucked forwards, desperate for more – but Sam's fingers were always just out of reach, inches too far away. It was torture, being so close but unable to find any release because Sam insisted on teasing him.

Sam's laugh was low in his ear, a gentle chuckle that blew hot breath across the side of his face. Dean keened softly, his head dropping back onto Sam's shoulder, and Sam took full advantage of the position, slamming his mouth down onto Dean's.

His lips were hard and strong, forcing Dean's open quickly, and his tongue was warm and fast, darting into Dean's mouth and running across the roof of it before tangling messily around Dean's own tongue. Sam swallowed down Dean's moans as his hand caught the base of Dean's erection, squeezing lightly, biting down on Dean's lower lip at the same time.

It was almost scary, how easily they fell into their roles. Dean loved it when Sam took control; it turned him on like crazy. If he stopped to think about it, he'd blame it on some deeply suppressed childhood desire to relinquish all his responsibilities. Sometimes, he wondered if Sam knew that. If that was why Sam was so commanding in bed.

He wasn't going to question it, at any rate. Not when Sam's hand was moving so slowly – torturously slowly – up and down his cock, tongue still fucking his mouth. Sam twisted his wrist whenever he reached the tip of Dean's cock, an old trick that had driven them both crazy. Old habits die hard.

His hips moved without thought, beyond his control by that stage, thrusting forward into Sam's fist then pulling back, grinding into Sam's erection, the friction driving them both crazy. Sam's mouth dropped from Dean's lips and moved back to his shoulders, teeth digging in and tongue sliding roughly across sweat-stained skin.

Sam's other hand scratched over Dean's nipple, the fingers catching hold and pinching, massaging it in time with the quick jerks of his other hand, tearing a guttural moan from Dean's throat. Sam's breath hitched quietly against Dean's collarbones as his brother's hips twitched backwards instinctively, the curve of his ass rubbing deliciously against Sam's erection. He almost lost his grip on Dean's cock when Dean twisted against him, hips writhing and squirming, pressing harder against Sam.

Their movements were becoming sloppier, their bodies a mess of tangled, sweat-slicked limbs, the air around them filling with moans and pants and gasps, and throaty whispers of _'Sam'_ that escaped from Dean when his brain shut down. Sam's teeth dug into the muscle at the base of Dean's neck as he drove his hips forward and his hand down, pinning Dean on both sides. Dean's body convulsed, a stream of curses and half-phrases spilling from lips as his eyes slid shut.

And then Dean was nearing orgasm, and they both knew it. Sam could still recognise the signs – the way his body stilled and his jaw worked furiously, his eyes snapping open and his mouth falling part-way open. He leant forward, pressed a kiss to Dean's jaw line, and tilted his head slightly, eyes full of question. They didn't need words – Dean knew what he was asking, and he knew what Dean's answer would be. And sure enough, his older brother shook his head, fists clenching as he tried to control his release.

Sam smiled softly, moving his kisses up Dean's jaw to his mouth as he removed his hand, letting it drop to Dean's thigh. They lay in silence for a moment, Sam's lips pressed to the corner of Dean's mouth as the elder of the two fought his body.

Then Dean turned onto his other side, their stomachs and groins pressed together, and raised a hand to Sam's face. And the smile that spread across his lips was breath taking, and whatever it was Sam wanted to say caught in his throat and refused to move. So instead, he leant down and kissed Dean solidly on the lips, his hands sliding round Dean's waist to rest on his lower back, pulling their bodies closer.

Sam bit down on Dean's lower lip, softly, tenderly, and Dean's mouth opened obediently, his free hand reaching behind Sam's head to tangle in his hair and tug him even closer. Their hips rolled together, drawing them both to the edge again and again, but parting just before either of them reached their peak.

Dean pulled back slightly, still smiling, and rested his forehead on Sam's, their gazes meeting and holding.

"Fuck me, Sammy. Please." His voice was hoarse, his throat dry from the kissing and the grinding and the fucking _pleasure_, and somehow that aroused Sam even more because dammit, Dean looked good with his cheeks flushed and his lips swollen.

There was no reply to that beyond a frantic nod and another heated kiss, lips dancing together as Sam's hands slid lower, dragging across the smooth skin of Dean's ass, nails digging in slightly. Dean moaned into Sam's mouth as his little brother traced the skin around his entrance – slow, barely there touches, teasing Dean. His fingers fisted in Sam's hair, his breath coming out in rough pants against Sam's jaw as Sam leant forward, catching the small bottle of lube that they always left out on the side, just in case.

They paused, silent for a moment, and just lay and watched each other. This was it. This was final. There was no going back. They knew it, they both knew it, and they both knew they didn't care. But that last jump, it was terrifying nonetheless.

And then Dean leant forward, pressed his lips to Sam's, just a chaste kiss, nothing more. Their eyes stayed open, fixed on each other, and just like that the fear was gone. There was nothing but love.

They stayed like that, staring into each other's eyes, as Sam slid one long finger into Dean, slowly, trying not to hurt him. It wasn't the first time, for either of them, but Sam was careful anyway. He alone knew how fragile Dean was, how easily breakable. God knows, he'd seen him close to breaking enough times to know that much.

Dean reacted perfectly. Sam watched as his eyes fluttered closed, lips parting and throat working wildly. Dean's hands clenched tighter in Sam's hair, and he let out a soft whine that Sam was sure was unconscious because there was no way Dean would knowingly make a noise like that. Biting down on his lip, Sam slid another finger in, crooking it gently until he felt Dean stiffen and shudder beneath him, groaning out a curse that Sam couldn't quite make out. He smiled lightly, ducking his head and pressing his lips into Dean's neck, stroking his fingertips over the same spot until Dean's skin shone with sweat and his throat was almost sore from so much moaning.

Then Sam pushed another finger in. Dean's spine almost bent in two, his back arching, pressing his groin harder against Sam's. And Dean was moaning, low, gentle, crooning moans that set Sam's blood rushing through him. Dean looked beautiful with his body stretched out along the bed, next to Sam, eyes shut tight and lips dark and parted, shaking with every breath he took. So completely open, so vulnerable, so gorgeous.

And Sam couldn't remember ever being so aroused.

He twisted his fingers once more, watching Dean toss beneath him, and then pulled them out. Dean whined softly as he did, and Sam chuckled, dropping another kiss onto his brother's mouth. Dean's hands slid up, cradling Sam's face again, and their eyes closed automatically, losing themselves in the kiss.

Dean rolled over onto his back, tugging Sam's face with him. Sam's body followed, his legs moving to straddle Dean's, pressing their groins together roughly. Dean inhaled sharply into Sam's mouth at the sudden movement, fingers tensing, nails digging into Sam's cheeks. Sam bit down on Dean's lower lip in retaliation, and Dean moaned, rolling his hips wantonly into Sam's. Sam moaned with him, letting his forehead rest on Dean's as he fumbled around the bed in search of the lube.

Dean snatched it out of his hand when he found it, and attempted to pour some onto his own palm without looking, spilling the lube across the bed sheets in the process. He cursed softly, and Sam couldn't hold back the laughter that bubbled out of his mouth, his shoulders shaking wildly. After a moment's hesitation, Dean joined in, his breath blowing into Sam's smile as he did.

It felt good to laugh with Dean again, to feel free enough to let it all out. They'd been so tense around each other, snapping at the simplest of mistakes – it was as though they'd started to hate each other. But lying there then, sheets and covers crumpled around them, sticky with spilt lube; there was nothing but an overwhelming sense of love. No tension, no awkward silences, just two brothers, in love. And it was beautiful – one shining moment in a lifetime of blood and anger and darkness.

Once the laughter had died down, Sam opened his eyes. Dean smiled softly, lifting his head and pressing his lips to Sam's in a brief kiss, smearing his hands in the spilt lube. Sam's tongue darted out to wet his lips and Dean chuckled softly, wrapping his hand around Sam's erection.

Sam's breath shuddered and his head dropped forward again, arms shaking as they fought to hold him up. Dean's hand moved quickly and roughly, the way Sam had always liked it, coating his cock with the cool lube. From seemingly nowhere – he later realised it had been under the pillow – Dean produced a condom. He ripped the packet open with his teeth and rolled the rubber down Sam's erection quickly, his slippery hands slipping every so often. And then Dean's hand was gripping the base of Sam's cock, guiding it slowly to his prepped entrance.

"Okay?" Dean breathed, as though he was asking for permission, and Sam nodded breathlessly, eyes glued on Dean's face. Dean smiled again, and trailed his hand up from Sam's erection to his hip, gripping it tightly. Sam smiled back, a full-mouthed, breath-taking smile, and nudged his hips forwards, feeling himself slide into Dean.

Dean tensed beneath him, then relaxed, eyes tightly shut and fingers digging into Sam's skin. Sam paused, his mouth opening to ask Dean something – anything – but Dean shook his head frantically, tugging on Sam's hips. Sam hesitated, but started moving again, inching forward until Dean's breathing had steadied slightly. When Dean's eyes fluttered open and met Sam's darkened gaze, Sam snapped his hips forward, burying himself in his brother's heat.

And Sam was cursing softly, hair falling forward into his face as his breath tore from his lips in harsh pants. Dean was surrounding him, warm and tight and wet from the lube. His hips stilled, whole body tensing above Dean as he tried to calm down the blood rushing through his body.

Beneath him, Dean whimpered, hands running over Sam's hips and back, nails tracing lightly against the tanned skin. His hips bucked lightly, trying to get Sam to move, because he knew that if Sam moved then it would feel like heaven – and sure enough, when Sam drew back and pushed in again, Dean's brain almost went haywire.

Sam knew, from the expression on Dean's face, and the way Dean's entire body jolted, that he'd found Dean's sweet spot. He adjusted his hips lightly, driving his cock into that same place, and Dean cried out, hips lifting off the bed. Sam groaned softly as he slipped further inside his brother and then pressed his mouth hungrily against Dean's, swallowing down his sounds of pleasure.

It only took a few more minutes of steady pulling back and thrusting in before Dean was teetering on the brink of orgasm again, fingers now tangled in Sam's hair and tongue working furiously in Sam's mouth. Sam slid one hand down between them, catching hold of Dean's cock and squeezing the base as he slammed into Dean's ass again, dragging himself across Dean's prostate. Dean shouted into Sam's mouth, fists almost tearing Sam's hair out as he exploded onto their stomachs.

Sam's hand carried on jerking him off, milking every last drop of come out, as Dean's ass clenched deliciously around his cock. Dean gasped for air, falling back down onto his back, and twisted his hips teasingly, clenching harder. And then Sam slid over the edge too, spilling hard and fast, still inside Dean.

They both lay panting for a moment afterwards, Sam collapsed on Dean's chest, listening to their hearts racing. Sam didn't bother pulling out, and Dean didn't complain, so they stayed like that until they feel asleep, Sam's arms wrapped around Dean's waist, Dean's arms holding him close, legs knotted together in the messy sheets.


End file.
